


Sammy's Garden

by innerglow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, life after hunting, old!chesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerglow/pseuds/innerglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Dean’s heart was a garden, there would be a field of sunflowers planted in it, swaying in the breeze of his lungs. Their heads would rise at the sound of Sam’s voice and turn in on themselves in the wake of Sam’s silences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sammy's Garden

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd. all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> also, this fic is marked for major character death--but in reality the actual death scene isn't a part of this fic. this is just an old winchester missing his brother in his old age. 
> 
> <3
> 
> Posted [ on Tumblr](http://buticancarryyou.tumblr.com/post/65792877867/sammys-garden) as well.

Dean Winchester is 68 years old and he misses his Brother with every aching bone in his body.

He winces as he gets on his knees and lets his calloused hands sink into the dirt before him. The soil is warm to the touch and it helps soothe the arthritic pains in his fingers, his hands worn from too many years of being wrapped around a gun.  He lets his fingers knead the soil, tending it with all the love in his heart.  
  
This used to be Sammy’s garden.  And the thought of his Brother’s name makes the wrinkled corners of his mouth deepen with a smile. He remembers when Sam had first told him about wanting to have a garden and he remembers laughing at first, but then coming to help Sam build it.  


Dean spends hours in this garden now, working it until a gleam of sweat appears on his brow. Sometimes it feels like he’s become part of this soil; that some part of him is soaked into the ripened life that greets him throughout the year.

But mostly, it’s Sam that he sees here in the garden.  


It’s Sam’s flushed cheeks that come to him when he bites into a perfectly reddened tomato, fresh from the vine. The strawberries, juicy and sweet, remind him of his Brother’s kisses. Everything about this garden, reeks of Sam. The sun on the back of his neck, like the warming touch of Sam’s hand—thanking him for the hours he spends here. 

Dean leans back and lifts his head to the evening sun and feels his heart squeeze with an intense longing for Sam. A breeze caresses his cheek and he can’t help but lean into it, as if it is his Brother’s hand. “I know, Sammy.” He whispers to the emptiness around him. 

Dean gets up slowly, steadying his legs before erecting himself fully. His back pinches, but the need to see his favorite part of this garden overrides it. He walks around the corner of the house and feels a tear dislodge itself from his lashes as his eyes come to find what he was looking for. 

A sea of sunflowers sway in the breeze before him, all of their heads raised to the falling sun in the sky. He touches the petals of one and remembers the day Sammy planted them for him. They were his one request in this garden of Sam’s. 

When they bloomed for the first time, they made love there in the garden—nothing but Sammy surrounding him. ‘I love you.’ He had said, softly against his Brother’s cheek before losing himself in Sammy’s sunflower eyes. They took his breath away; the way they faced him like the sun—as though he was the only thing they wanted to look at. 

And after Sam had passed, those sunflowers were there to remind him that he isn’t alone. Sam is everywhere. 

He is in this dirt, in this fruit, in the roots of the sunflowers and the petals that fan around it’s center, like a lions mane. He is the sun above them, nurturing them still. 

He is in Dean’s chest, beating away with every memory they ever made.

And if Dean’s heart was a garden, there would be a field of sunflowers planted in it, swaying in the breeze of his lungs. Their heads would rise at the sound of Sam’s voice and turn in on themselves in the wake of Sam’s silences. 

Sammy was his sunflower. 

And with that thought, Dean kisses the petals of another Sunflower and thinks of Sam’s lips.

"I’ll see you soon, Brother." 


End file.
